


Come Back Later

by Cottontail



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Time, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-09
Updated: 2011-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-17 19:46:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cottontail/pseuds/Cottontail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pretend Rodney actually ascended in Tao of Rodney. John returns to Earth to deal with the memorial and his own issues with the loss. Eventually Rodney comes back down from ascension. John must help him remember who he is and who they are to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Back Later

**Author's Note:**

> Original story posted on LJ here: [Come Back Later.](http://cottontail.livejournal.com/44966.html)

John’s still in shock as he stands on the front porch of Jeannie Miller’s house, waiting for her to answer the door. It’s a familiar shock; one he’s been through a few too many times.

A dog is barking in a yard across the street and a chill breeze ruffles his hair and seeps under his black overcoat. He watches red leaves swirl around the yard and pile up against the corner of a picket fence.

He’s done this before; delivered the news of death to loved ones. But it’s different this time, sharper and closer to home. He’s been dreading this moment for a week.

No one is answering the door and this seems like a good excuse to assume Jeannie isn’t home. He knocks one more time though, because he wants to get this over with and not come back here again.

Muffled footsteps sound behind the door, it opens and Jeannie does a double-take to see him there. She’s in jeans and sweatshirt, golden-brown hair pulled back from her face. She smiles, takes in his bedraggled appearance in dark suit and coat, looks once into his eyes and shuts the door in his face.

“Crap,” he mutters and waits a heartbeat for her to open it again but it doesn’t happen. He has a small inner debate about ringing the bell this time or knocking.

The door opens before he does either. She crosses her arms on her chest and glares at him. “John.”

“Jeannie.”

“No.”

Rubbing his hands over his face he tries to get a grip on himself, because this is obviously not going to go down the way he expected. Leave it to a McKay to face this sort of news with absolute stubborn denial.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He really is sorry. He’s had a lump of cold grief and exhaustion sitting in the pit of his stomach since the day Rodney died and ascended. “He wanted me to be the one to –“

She slams the door on him again. John flinches this time because there’s a pretty impressive amount of force behind it. A full minute passes and he’s getting cold. The stupid dog won’t stop barking.

He rings the bell. A few seconds pass and she answers, tears glittering in her blue eyes. This time he says nothing; just stares at her until she opens the door more, gesturing for him to enter.

They drink apple-cranberry tea and she curls on her couch. He takes the chair beside it and explains the last few days of her brother’s life to her. She accepts the little data chip McKay recorded a last message to her on. The house grows chill as the sun slowly sinks from the sky outside.

“You were there with him,” she says again. He’s been over this but she keeps asking and he keeps promising that yes he was there. They were all there when Rodney spoke his final words, took his final breath. When he turned all glowy and sparkly and went to God knows where.

“Blue skies,” John murmurs, staring at the small puddle of tea left in his cup.

Jeannie stirs a bit on the couch, turning her head to see him. “What?”

“His last words: blue skies.”

She’s silent, waiting for more.

“He was brave,” John says. She stares hard at him, trying to read something in his face.

A click of the front door disrupts her scrutiny and John gives a small thankful sigh. A little girl skips into the room and stops short when she sees him. She has on pink shoes and little red lights blink in the heels with each step she takes. John thinks they’re cool and wonders if Rodney would too. He recognizes her from pictures Jeannie showed him when she was on Atlantis. Knows her name is Madison.

“Hey, we’re home.” A tall, curly haired man appears in the entrance, taking in John’s presence then Jeannie curled into the couch. “What’s up?” he addresses his wife.

“Caleb, this is John Sheppard. He works… Works with my brother.”

John can’t speak of Rodney in past tense yet either.

“Oh,” Caleb says. He’s uneasy now, looking at John, obviously trying to determine why he’s here.

“It’s my brother, he’s dead,” Jeannie blurts out. She’s been holding it together pretty well up to this point but now she stands and buries herself in her husband’s embrace. He rubs her back and soothes.

John stands up and shifts a bit. He wonders if he can escape, now that the husband is here to take over.

“Uncle Rodney?” Madison asks. She’s picked up and held between her parents. This is when John knows he needs to go. The tight grip he’s had on his own emotions is about to unknot and he absolutely refuses to lose it in front of Rodney’s family.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb is saying. But he’s not looking at his wife so much as he’s watching John. “Are you… You should stay for dinner.”

“Uh, I don’t…” John mentally picks through all the excuses not to stay.

“Please,” Jeannie says before he can choose one. She lifts her head from Caleb’s chest, eyes wet with tears; places a hand on John’s arm, holding him in place. “I want you to stay.” She’s determined and he can’t say no to Rodney’s sister.

Dinner is a green salad, garlic bread and spaghetti, with ice cold cokes for the adults and milk for Madison. Madison is expert in sucking up one strand of spaghetti at a time.

Conversation is sparse between the adults but Madison fills in the uncomfortable silences. She informs them about her day, chasing geese in the park, and then later helping daddy pick out which vegetables to grow in the garden when spring comes back around – carrots and pumpkins. Caleb asks a few details about the memorial and if it was a quick death. Which it sort of was, but John doesn’t want to go over it again.

“Can’t you stay the night?” Jeannie asks, as he helps her load the dishwasher. For some reason she seems reluctant to let John escape.

“I have to be up early, I really should go back to the hotel,” he lies. He wants to be alone in his room with no witnesses. Jeannie keeps doing Rodney-like things and Caleb is treating him like a widower, which is unnerving on too many levels. He can’t face any more questions about Rodney.

Two sleeping pills and a long, hot shower later he’s stretched out on top of the scratchy hotel bed covers, ESPN flickering on the TV.

Every night, as John tries to sink into sleep, he’s haunted by Rodney’s last words. Tonight’s no different. As the sleeping pills start to take effect he buries his head in the hotel pillows, plagued with thoughts of Rodney alone in the blue skies.

\---

The memorial is held in the large banquet hall of a particularly impressive Toronto hotel. A lot of people from Atlantis have traveled back to Earth for this thing. John gives a short but moving eulogy; just as Rodney would have wanted. Ronon and Teyla are holding hands and watching him closely. Elizabeth is crying quietly and Carson is doing a very poor job of pretending he isn’t. It’s the most depressing moment of John’s life, and he’s had a lot of depressing moments.

Of course Jeannie, Caleb and Maddie are there, all in suitably dressy clothes, dark but not black. Black is out of fashion for memorial services. John knows this because he heard a few of the female scientists discussing it several days previous, while planning outfits for this thing. In his head he could hear Rodney saying something appropriately snarky in response. _“Great. I’m dead and the science department expects Joan Rivers to be on the red carpet for my memorial.”_

John recognizes a lot of the faces in the audience; he sees a few well known scientists and colleagues from the SGC but most of their names escape him.

There’s a brief moment of claustrophobia as a group of strangers converge on him after the eulogy.

“I’m sorry. He was a brilliant physicist,” some woman from Area 51 is saying. She introduces herself as Dr.-Something-or-Other. “We worked together. I knew him in college, when we were both getting our doctorates.” John stares at her blond hair. He hates her.

He manages to break away for a few minutes, to sit outside in the cold night air and stare up at the stars. He wonders if Rodney is watching all of this - if the memorial was up to his standards. He wonders a lot about where Rodney is now, and not even Daniel Jackson can give him a clear answer.

“Looking for the Big Dipper?” General O’Neill breaks into his thoughts. John glances over to find him holding out an unopened bottle of beer. He accepts it silently.

“No, sir. Just trying to… forget.”

O’Neill is studying him over his own beer, his breath puffing in the cold air. “I know what you’re going through here, Sheppard. I’m not going to lie and say it gets easier, because it absolutely doesn’t.” John likes General O’Neill because he’s always direct and no nonsense. “But you just watch,” he continues, “one of these days he’ll show up naked and clueless someplace and then you’ll just want to shake the hell out of him for making you miserable.”

For the first time since Rodney’s ascension John smiles a genuine smile. “Yes, sir,” he answers, glancing back up at the sky.

“I’m ordering you to take some time off. Just a few weeks, stay here on Earth. Go fishing or whatever the hell it is you do.”

John frowns and looks back to O’Neill. “I’d rather get back to work, sir.”

“I know. But according to General Landry you’ve been acting wacko the last week or so.” He raises a hand to stop John’s immediate protestation. “And understandably so, I know. But it’s this or forced sessions with one of the SGC shrinks.”

John winces at that. “I’ll take the leave, sir.”

O’Neill makes a small salute with his beer. “I thought so.”

\---  
Somehow a few weeks turn into a few months because he can’t bring himself to step back through the gate to an Atlantis that doesn’t include Rodney. He wants desperately to do so because he misses Ronon and Teyla, but something is blocking him. He first stepped through that gate with Rodney and he’s only ever known Atlantis with Rodney. Mostly he just hates himself for being such a wuss about this. He’s lost comrades before, but this is hitting him harder than usual.

What’s worse is that he’s getting concerned looks from other SGC personnel when he sees them in passing. Colonel Carter stops by his apartment and tries to “talk” to him about McKay. He nods in all the right places as she goes on about close bonds of combat and brings up Daniel Jackson a few times. John learns that death is referred to in plural when speaking of Dr. Jackson.

When Uncle Sam notices they have a perfectly good pilot sitting on his ass contributing nothing, he receives orders to go back to Afghanistan and fly Blackhawks. Apparently the US government has been seriously hurting for pilots and they’re willing to put up a good fight with the SGC for him. Sure he could get out of the assignment if he’d just step back through the gate to Atlantis, but lately Afghanistan sounds more appealing. It’s something familiar that doesn’t include memories of McKay. Something dangerous he can lose himself in.

Mitchell tries to talk him out of it one day at lunch in the SGC. “You’re serious? Afghanistan? John…” He carefully sets down his fork and crosses his arms on the table in front of his plate, fixing John with a stern, blue-eyed glare. “You are _not_ going back to that. You can come out on some missions with SG-1. We can always use the extra help.”

John doesn’t answer; he focuses on his French fries instead. Mitchell sighs. “Look, it’s movie night tonight. Teal’c’s choice so… Who knows what we’ll be suffering through, but we’d love for you to join us. My place 1800 hours.”

Mitchell’s home is sprawling and comfortable but obviously a bachelor’s pad. Carter sits with John on the floor in front of the giant, flat screen television. They share an overflowing bowl of popcorn, which makes him think of Teyla. Teal’c has chosen _Shrek_ for their viewing pleasure and John just knows Ronon would like this movie. Donkey reminds him of Rodney.

John’s decision to return to Afghanistan is pretty set in stone by the end of SG-1 movie night.

Once he lands in the familiar rugged terrain, it’s almost like everything from another galaxy was a delusion. He’s rapidly assigned to the 160th Special Operations Airborne, _Night Stalkers_. It’s all night flights and medical evacuations to start. Then he’s given command of a small but highly effective air support team, dedicated to transporting Special Operations teams in and out of hostile territories. That’s when things get hazardous and he nearly loses his life on a weekly basis.

For awhile John is marginally happy.

It’s not unlike the Pegasus galaxy and the constant threat of Wraith. It’s unpredictable violence in hostile lands. And it’s always him and the other members of his Unit called in to clean up the messes and collect the fallen.

John stops tracking the passage of time. He even manages to distance himself from thoughts of McKay and clear blue skies. Though occasionally, when in particularly bad situations, he’ll find himself muttering to Rodney, hoping he can hear or help in some way.

His fellow comrades slowly warm up to him but keep a certain distance because apparently he exhibits “suicidal tendencies” and is sometimes “unpredictable.”

One dark night he kneels on the ground of an airfield, just a few miles outside Kandahar, two of his fellow pilots and a team of Army Rangers with him. “Five hostages, here,” a bull-dog of a Major General points out on a map. John squints down at it, flashlights illuminate the terrain. “We need to find a secure in, land undetected, position ourselves for a rescue and quick retreat if things turn hostile. Colonel Sheppard, you’re here.”

John nods, memorizing coordinates, making contingency plans for an exit. There’s a sorry amount of intelligence on this rescue and he wants to point this out, but he isn’t running the show here. Prior to parachuting in, one of the Rangers is handed the task of placing lights on the landing ground for the choppers. John memorizes this man, because he’s the one holding the reins of life now. Without a little light on the ground, to indicate no hostiles are around and to direct a safe landing, the whole mission could collapse. This particular Ranger is a wiry guy with an infectious grin that reminds John of Ford.

John takes his Blackhawk up over the terrain, the other pilots follow, and they spend a ridiculous amount of time circling. He gets a sick feeling. The lights never show up. According to radio chatter the Ranger team is not making headway with the original plan. Fuel starts to become an issue with the helicopters. He wants to yell at them to scrap the stupid mission, but apparently these hostages are very important.

John makes a command decision when ammunition starts exploding below. He calls in the other Blackhawks to head into the place where landing should have happened, praying it’s not a minefield or something.

His helicopter takes a few bullets from the firefight below and John curses this stupid mission. He manages to make a barely passable landing. The rotor blades are kicking up a ridiculous amount of sand, making it twice as difficult for the Rangers to track back to the safety of the choppers, but there’s nothing for it. “A little help would be nice here, Rodney!” John hisses under his breath.

Rodney never answers.

They gather up only a few of the Rangers and none of the hostages, whom John learns later have been killed already. It’s a disaster of a mission and to make matters worse one of the Rangers (the wiry one with the infectious smile) bleeds to death in John’s helicopter before he can get him back to the medical aid tents.

It’s nearly dawn when he returns to the Command tent, filthy and exhausted but still alive. There he finds visitors. The two people he least expected to see in Afghanistan - Teyla and Ronon in desert fatigues. They look extremely out of place.

“Hey,” he greets, expecting them to vanish at any moment.

“Hello, John,” Teyla answers with a familiar smile and small nod. Exhaustion and buried longing for comfort cause him to lurch a few feet towards her.

Ronon intervenes with a huge grin, pulling John into a rib-crushing hug.

“Hey!” John yelps undignified. A few of the tent’s inhabitants glance up from laptops or maps to see what the commotion is. John tries not to look back at them and focuses on Teyla and Ronon instead. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”

“We came to see you, SGC got us in here,” Ronon answers.

“You must come back, John,” Teyla continues in an earnest tone, a warm hand on his arm. All around them life in a war zone continues on, commanding officers going over statistics and mission reports, talking in hushed and tired tones; the distant rotors of a helicopter hovering outside. The tent smells like old coffee, wet sand and tarp. It’s all ingrained in his mind; this one moment, crystal clear for years to come. “Rodney has returned.” Teyla smiles.

\---

Rodney ended up lost in some tiny town in Iowa. No one knows why it was Iowa, though Daniel Jackson has a theory about a big joke up there among the ascended. Mitchell insists it’s something about corn, but John doesn’t understand that.

The only reason the SGC found Rodney was because he miraculously remembered the phone number to Area 51. It’s the one and only thing he remembers. Which is good, because those guys at Area 51 check out all strange things. Especially when a man turns up naked on the side of a road with a direct line to them.

Ronon and Teyla came in from Atlantis first, to see Rodney and to arrange to visit John in Afghanistan. Rodney didn’t recognize Teyla or Ronon, though they spent several hours with him, talking and trying to jog his memory.

The room they have Rodney in is a place John recognizes as one of the holding cells. But it’s fixed up to look like a waiting room in a hospital. He knows there are closed-circuit cameras tracking this reunion and wonders why SGC is keeping such a tight rein on Rodney. Then again, John figures a man who knows giant secrets of the universe yet claims to have no memory, could be considered a threat under any circumstances. So, for now at least, he doesn’t argue with it, as long as Rodney is safe.

Rodney glances up when John enters then returns to the crossword puzzle he’s working on. John scowls and glances at Ronon and Teyla who look sympathetically at him. “Do not hold it against him, John. He’s not himself,” Teyla whispers then nudges him forward.

Rodney glances up again when John approaches and takes at seat across from him.

The SGC doctors say Rodney has a clean bill of health, in fact cleaner than before he ascended, and he looks better as well. But there is something different in his eyes.

“Rodney, this is John,” Teyla introduces in a gentle voice. Rodney blinks and shows not one bit of recognition. But it’s still Rodney, he’s alive and he’s back. John has an overwhelming urge to smile like an idiot and punch him in the arm. If no one else was here watching he might even pull Rodney up into a hug. Rodney stares at him, eyes traveling from head to toe and back again, visibly scowling.

A strange surge of hope fills John, sitting here in this room with all of his team. He feels as if he’s been trying to fly through clouds for the last eight months and all at once he’s climbed through to find the blue sky above.

On the table is a plate of sandwiches, a pitcher of juice and several glasses. None of it has been touched yet.

“Hey,” John says, testing the waters. Rodney narrows his eyes but gives a slight upward chin tilt in greeting and John smiles. Ronon lunges over them to grab a sandwich. They all watch as he devours half of it in one bite.

“What?” Ronon says, swallowing down the other half as Teyla raises one brow in amusement. Rodney looks aghast and confused at the same time. John’s stomach is empty from nerves and travel time so he grabs a sandwich too. He can’t help grinning at Rodney as he eats. He wants Rodney to talk, to make snide comments to Ronon, anything at all. Just talk.

Teyla joins them and they all eat and stare at one another contentedly.

John’s thinking of kicking Rodney under the table, just to get a reaction from him. Luckily he doesn’t have to though.

“I know you,” Rodney says, pointing half a sandwich at him. “We’re… something to each other,” he continues, chewing and watching John thoughtfully.

Teyla and Ronon exchange grins.

“They said you didn’t remember anything,” John answers, burying down a sudden giddy thrill. He finishes off his sandwich and reaches for another but Ronon grabs the last one with a leer.

“I don’t… I mean I do. I remember really random things about my work. They tell me I’m a physicist, which explains why equations and crap keep popping into my head arbitrarily.” He frowns and looks away. Teyla gives John a look but he can’t identify what she’s trying to convey. “I feel like I’m going crazy… why did I do this to myself?” Rodney’s voice is distant.

John should be feeling terrible for his friend right now but he still can’t get past the giddy joy at his return. He tries to tamp it down because clearly Rodney is miserable and lost.

“You wanted to come back to us,” he offers and Rodney’s eyes return to him. There’s something there between them, a brief spark of understanding.

“Huh.” Rodney’s gaze remains on John for a long moment. “You know your hair is ridiculous, right?”

“Thanks.”

“Wasn’t a compliment, but whatever.”

“Looks like you’ve got a bit more than you had before.” John teases back, giving into the urge to reach across the table and ruffle a hand over Rodney’s head, making his hair stick up at odd angles.

Rodney smoothes it back down with an annoyed look. “I wouldn’t know.”

“You will remember; it simply needs time,” Teyla reassures and Ronon nods, pouring more juice for Rodney. John realizes belatedly that they’re all drinking lemonade. Rodney gulps down with no obvious concern.

Ronon beams at John. “He likes citrus.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Rodney sets the empty glass down and looks at Ronon, irritated.

“I missed you, buddy!” Ronon turns his smile to Rodney and claps a large hand on his shoulder. Rodney looks slightly alarmed.

\---  
For at least a full week the doctors keep Rodney at the SGC but he’s not remembering much more than math. They suggest getting him out, going to visit his sister or something and John immediately agrees to take him. Ronon and Teyla return to Atlantis.

There was some stupid top secret, classified bureaucracy in the SGC regarding Rodney’s return. So, until this moment, Jeannie has been out of the loop on the subject.

John rings the bell instead of knocking. A few seconds pass and the door opens. Jeannie looks the same as she did the last time John stood on this doorstep. He can’t help the grin permanently plastered on his face. Her mouth opens and closes a few times and she glances over at John then immediately back to Rodney. A small squeak of joy escapes her as she immediately wraps herself around her brother.

“Uh… Hi?” Rodney says. He appears slightly disturbed by the entire exchange but, after only a second of hesitation, hugs her back. She clings to him and John can’t tell if she’s laughing or crying. Possibly both.

Rodney gives John a pleading look for help and he takes pity. He clears his throat before speaking, “We were just in the neighborhood and I wondered if you had any of that apple-cranberry tea left.”

They spend the afternoon together in Jeannie’s living room. She’s not letting Rodney out of her sight, which John finds very amusing. Eventually Caleb and Maddie return home and a small family celebration is had.

They stay the night, John on the couch, Rodney in the spare room.

“I have no idea who these people are,” Rodney says the next morning, as he and John have coffee and orange juice alone in the kitchen. “I mean, I know she’s my sister and all that but… I don’t remember her. You’re the only one even vaguely familiar to me still.” Rodney sits dejectedly at the table.

“Well, I’m flattered.” John smiles at him. He’s been happy for a solid week now, and no matter how hard he tries not to be, he just is. The only explanation is Rodney.

“I suppose you should be,” Rodney answers, standing up and walking a small circuit around the kitchen. He examines a few framed pictures on the wall of the smiling Miller family. He makes some poetry with the tiny word magnets on the refrigerator; John squints to read it from where he’s sitting.

 _Fluffy Juice  
Delirious eternity under puppy moons_

“Wow, I was kind of hoping for something wise and… ancienty,” John says.

Rodney sighs and scowls at him. “Ancienty?”

John grins. “Well, you spent all that time up there. It would be cool if you were randomly brilliant in some new ways,” he teases.

Rodney’s scowl turns into a glare but his expression softens after a moment. “We must have been close,” he says quietly, leaning back against the counter. Rodney keeps bringing up this topic. John tries not to lose his patience. It’s got to be lonely not knowing anyone around you and having only fuzzy feelings of familiarity about one person.

“I’ve already told you, we were close. We’re on a team together –“

“Yeah, yeah, we fight monsters in other galaxies.” Rodney waves a hand dismissively and sighs. “You’re deliberately not telling me something, John. I fight space aliens with Teyla and Ronon too and I still don’t remember who they are.”

Rodney calls him John now and it feels wrong to point out that he never used to do that. But it’s also eerie that Rodney only remembers him and no one else. He wonders what little spot in Rodney’s brain kept the idea of John around but none of the others, not even his own sister.

Before he can come up with a response Rodney wanders out of the kitchen. Jeannie and Madison are in the living room reading; Caleb has left for a book club gathering. A piano is set off to the side of the room. Rodney absently runs a hand over the polished surface. John follows quietly. The soft morning light from a window illuminates the room and a grandfather clock ticks off the seconds.

“You can play if you want,” Jeannie suggests.

“Me?” Rodney stares from her to the piano, looking slightly terrified. “I don’t-“

“Oh please!” Jeannie snorts. “You so do. Go on, try,” she urges. Madison bounces a bit beside her mother on the couch, clearly excited by the prospect of a small show. John’s never heard Rodney play, wasn’t even entirely aware he did play.

Rodney glances from Jeannie to John and back again to the piano. He sits, lets his fingers hover over the keys a moment and scowls in concentration. John feels a bit nervous watching this and Rodney’s progress is slow. He picks out a few simple and childish tunes. Madison makes some happy sounds from beside her mother.

It develops into more intricate melodies, classical stuff John’s heard before but doesn’t know the composers or the names. Jeannie’s bright with quiet enthusiasm and Madison claps happily at the end of a particularly complex, winding piece that almost breaks John’s heart.

He’s leans against the doorframe between kitchen and living room, awestruck. Why didn’t he know before that Rodney could play this well? Perhaps it was mentioned in passing at some point and he’d dismissed it as just another exaggeration by Dr. Rodney McKay.

“Mother paid through the nose to get you lessons from the best instructors,” Jeannie explains to Rodney who looks equally as shocked by his own talent.

“Huh. And I’m off fighting space aliens instead.” Rodney looks perplexed. He’s been looking that way a lot the past week or so.

Jeannie shrugs.

They spend a few more days with Rodney’s sister.

Rodney starts remembering little things about his childhood and about Jeannie. He grows frustrated as the days pass and starts snipping at John and Jeannie whenever the conversation drifts to topics he can’t remember. His irritable mood is a shadow of the former Rodney and John secretly enjoys it.

John likes being in this house with this family and almost feels like he belongs. He enjoys going to the store with Caleb to pick up extra groceries; helping Jeannie make salads for dinner; distracting Madison with Lincoln Logs or coloring books so Caleb and Jeannie can get some alone time. He especially likes the way Rodney becomes increasingly more obliging towards him. Choosing to sit next to him at the table for dinner, joining him out on walks around the neighborhood, or asking his opinion on simple things like what to watch on TV. He never agrees to watch what John suggests but he still asks.

Every so often he’ll catch Rodney’s eyes on him, searching for something. The look always lingers a little longer than strictly comfortable for two men. John tries not to fidget under the scrutiny, hoping one of these times all the memories will come flooding back to Rodney. Rodney always breaks the spell by glancing away with barely a smile; returning to whatever held his attention previously.

One evening they stand together on the porch out back. Madison chases down fireflies in the dwindling light around the carrot and pumpkin garden. John holds an empty mayonnaise jar for her to stick them in. So far they only have two flittering around in there, blinking lights at one another.

Rodney’s giving him the look again and John’s had just enough beers to be reckless. He returns it with matching intensity. There’s a spark of something in Rodney’s eyes. John’s pulse speeds up, heat spreading through him. He gives a half smile before looking way, hyper aware suddenly of Rodney’s every move beside him.

A firefly flickers almost within reach. As a distraction, John goes after it himself instead of alerting Madison.

\----

Rodney grows progressively grumpy over the next few days. Especially when Jeannie starts dragging out the family picture albums and recounting things that should be embarrassing to Rodney, if he could remember them.

They decide to return to Atlantis. John’s reluctant to leave so soon but it’s not fair keeping Rodney in this place he doesn’t fully remember. Maybe Atlantis will be the trigger he needs.

John hasn’t been back since before Rodney’s death and ascension, so it’s a big event for both of them. They take a Jumper through the gate and over the McKay–Carter Intergalactic Bridge.

“I built this?” Rodney asks as they sit at the midway station between Pegasus and the Milky Way.

“Yup,” John answers, feeling a bit of pride for Rodney. “You had some help from Colonel Carter but mostly it was you who stuck it all together.”

“Because I’m brilliant,” Rodney smirks, a flash of the old Rodney there. It melts away with his next question though. “What if I can’t do this anymore? What if it doesn’t ever all come back to me?”

John looks up from the HUD. Rodney’s staring at all the controls around him, enthralled but nervous. John remembers that look from their first few days on Atlantis. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.” Rodney still appears hesitant though. “Hey, you want to dial in the next leg of the trip?”

“You have to ask?”

John reads out the gate address and Rodney enters it in. The consol lights up fiercely for him and John’s captivated. “It never used to light that brightly for you.”

Rodney looks at him like he’s crazy. “Now you’re just trying to stroke my ego. Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

“No. The ascension, it must have made the ATA gene stronger in you somehow. That’s kind of cool.” Actually John thinks is incredibly cool, but he doesn’t want to gush all over about it too much.

Rodney spends the rest of the trip touching things to see them light up under his fingers.  
John’s still trying to reacquaint himself with piloting a Jumper. He’s been flying helicopters for the last several months and feels like he needs to check and cross check controls and headings more. But the Jumper is reading him perfectly and the flight is smooth all the way to Atlantis.

A small contingent is there to greet them, Elizabeth at the front. She pulls Rodney in for a hug and he freezes, then hugs back.

“This is Elizabeth,” John introduces. She pulls back and looks apologetically at Rodney.

“We’ve all missed you, Rodney,” she says, then as an aside, “You too of course, John.” She looks a little disapproving. “Afghanistan?”

He gives a small shrug. He can’t even explain the Afghanistan thing to himself. Instead he introduces Rodney around to the other happy faces. He sticks close to John the whole time, accepting handshakes and a few hugs from what are otherwise friendly strangers to him.

“This is Dr. Zelenka,” John says, as Zelenka immediately holds out a hand for Rodney to shake.

“Rodney, it is very good you are back. Because idiot Kavanaugh has been impossible with you gone.”

Rodney looks confused. “You do know that I have no idea who Kavanaugh is?”

Zelenka backtracks, “Oh, yes, yes, of course. But you will.”

“Unfortunately,” Elizabeth mumbles and shares a smile with Zelenka.

That night John stays with Rodney in his room; Ronon and Teyla join them. They’re up into early morning hours, eating popcorn and watching movies on Rodney’s laptop. It’s warm and it’s home, Rodney is visibly more relaxed here than he was at Jeannie’s or the SGC. He slumps against John’s side with a yawn as credits are rolling on The Mummy. Ronon is talking in a low rumbling voice about a few missions he accompanied Lorne on. Teyla is asleep, stretched on the floor beside them, head resting on a pillow in Rodney’s lap.

“Is he remembering?” Ronon asks when Rodney begins to softly snore.

John shifts a bit, trying to figure how to get out from under Rodney and Teyla without waking anyone. “Little bit. But he’s not the same, it’s like he’s been through something. I don’t know what.” He manages to grab a pillow and insert it in place of himself under Rodney’s head. “He’s different, you know?” He continues in a whisper, glancing back at Ronon who’s looking intently at Rodney.

“Well, he died and came back to life,” Ronon states the obvious, which makes John feel like a dick for forgetting.

He and Ronon watch _Shrek_ next. It’s a good first night back.

The next few days are spent reacquainting themselves with Atlantis. There are a lot of briefings from Major Lorne who held John’s position while he was gone; he did a pretty decent job of it, too. John makes a note to request Lorne’s promotion to Lt. Colonel as soon as possible.

Rodney is most often in the science labs under Zelenka’s watchful eye. He’s coming around slowly, remembering more and more but John continues to wonder what the Ancients did to him up there in ascension land.

“I corrected one of his equations this morning and he said ‘thank you’”, Zelenka whispers to John one day. He looks worried about this.

“Is that bad?” John asks.

“It’s not what Rodney would do. Are you sure this is him? Maybe it is clone.”

“Pretty sure it’s him. Just give it some time, I’m sure he’ll be back to throwing things at the other scientists soon,” John replies with a reassuring smile.

They go out on a few missions. Rodney lets John out of his sight and starts trusting Ronon and Teyla more. He remembers Teyla’s favorite tea at lunch one day, and then details start flooding in along with a bit of the old flippancy and sarcasm. Something John never thought he would be so pleased to see again.

“Yesterday he called me a nitwit,” Zelenka says with a conspiratorial grin.

John grins back. “Nice.”

“Yes,” Zelenka agrees.

They start to banter again about stupid little things like Canadian football or the edibility of the new fishy-squid thing served in the dinning hall. Still, every so often Rodney stops and stares at John like he’s seeing something or has some particular question he wants to ask. Its starting to get uncomfortable now, but it’s something John is reluctant to confront Rodney on again.

Then one night Rodney appears at his door, DVD’s in hand. “I seem to recall liking this one,” he says, holding out The Matrix.

“Actually you criticized every detail last time we watched it,” John points out, opening is laptop and taking the DVD from Rodney. He grabs some beers and they settle on the far too narrow bed to watch, because there isn’t really any other place to sit comfortably. Rodney pulls out an orange and John tries not to grin.

John passes out someplace around the part when bullets are flying everywhere and Neo is managing to never be hit by one. Rodney is pointing out the statistical impossibilities.

“John.” A hand presses against his shoulder and he climbs up from sleep.

“What?” He turns his head on the pillow, Rodney leans up on an elbow, staring at him in the darkness.

Silence for several heartbeats and then, “I think… I’m just going for this, okay?”

“Uh… okay?” John can’t imagine what he’s talking about. It’s the middle of the night, and he’s about to ask why Rodney is still here when he realizes he’s being kissed, tentatively at first, then slow and sweet. Rodney tastes like oranges and John’s brain, along with other parts of his body, start to wake up. He tries to speak, which Rodney takes as invitation to introduce tongue into the equation. He slides a hand under John’s neck and cards fingers up into his hair, cradling John’s head and deepening the kiss. John can’t stop the low moan this drags from him.

Rodney pulls away first. “We do this, right?” he whispers, licking a warm path along John’s jaw and up just beneath his left ear.

John’s brain is screaming at him to deny that they do this; he doesn’t do this with men, and he _really_ doesn’t do this with members of his team. He needs to extract himself from the warm tangle of limbs and gently but firmly explain that they’re just friends.

But he can’t find his voice to answer – any sound he makes will come out as a strangled groan. Rodney’s warm, wet mouth is doing incredibly pleasurable things against the racing pulse at his throat. “Uh… Yes?” he manages with a sharp intake of breath, just as Rodney licks and kisses down his neck, sliding warm and expert fingers up under John’s t-shirt.

“This I remember,” Rodney whispers.

John’s incapable of tracking things from that point, light headed by how quickly it all progresses from slow, deliberate licking and kissing to Rodney expertly sucking him off. It fills him with a pulsing and pleasurable ache as he tries to grasp at the soft, short hair of Rodney’s head. Strong hands hold him down, not allowing for too much thrust on his part, which is a tormenting pleasure all on its own.

Rodney’s name has been a mantra running through John’s head since this started; but he struggles against screaming that name when he finally falls over the edge of climax. Some small part of him is still refusing to give in completely to what’s happening.

Despite this, John finally gathers himself back together enough to reach down and pull Rodney up for another lingering kiss, rolling him over on his back. He slides a hand down to wrap around the answering hardness, stroking in a twisting grip that has Rodney flustered at first then arching under him, gasping John’s name along with a few interesting expletives.

It leaves them both breathless and limp in the middle of the bed, which is actually the entire bed because it’s so fucking small. Rodney stretches beside him, stealing too much of the blanket. John blinks rapidly up at the ceiling.

Did he just have sex with McKay?

He glances over at Rodney who looks quite pleased with himself, a glint of accomplishment in his eyes. It’s a look he hasn’t seen on Rodney in a very long time and John’s breath catches at the familiarity of it.

Then reality starts to settle in and John thinks he really ought to tell Rodney that, no they never did that before, this was not what they did.

“What’s wrong?” Concerned eyes are fixed on him, watching everything. “Are you shaking?” More blanket is made available and awkwardly tucked around him, a quick kiss pressed to his forehead.

John swallows and stares back at those blue, blue eyes, willing himself to speak in a calm voice. “It’s nothing. I… I just missed you,” he answers. Rodney grins again, pressing closer.

“This must be why I came back,” he whispers against John’s throat, just before drifting into sleep.

\---

McKay is not there when John wakes up. He spends the first thirty minutes, after opening his eyes, just staring at the ceiling, trying to convince himself he’s the same person he was the day before. Just because he took advantage of Rodney’s memory loss and let him initiate the whole sex thing, well that doesn’t make John a bad person.

The next forty-five minutes are spent in the shower with hot water, lots of steam, shampoo, soap and some mild panic mixed in.

While he dresses and makes the bed he’s flooded with the memory of last night. The feel and taste of Rodney, the soft but urgent whisper of his words. John has to stop what he’s doing and breathe deeply a few times. He firmly refuses to let himself panic any further until after he’s had at least one cup of coffee.

The dinning hall is nearly empty and he’s thankful for the chance to pick a secluded table for just himself, his coffee and maybe an orange.

It’s not that the sex thing is freaking him out so much as it just happened and he was completely blindsided by it. One minute he’s sleeping, next minute McKay’s giving him a blowjob. And what crazy, crossed-signals is he giving off to make Rodney think they had that type of relationship before? And what kind of dick is he to let Rodney go on thinking they did?

“You appear lost,” Teyla interrupts.

“Hi.” He welcomes the distraction, pushing a seat out for her with his boot. She smiles and takes it, setting her cup of tea down on the table.

“Is everything well, John?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.

“No. Well, yes but no.” He sighs heavily and stares into his half empty coffee. He doesn’t want to talk about this with her but he also doesn’t want to keep running over it in his own head alone. Perhaps if he just doesn’t share too many details he could still get through the conversation with little personal mortification. Teyla’s good at suggesting things he would never think of on his own. Besides that, she’s a female and they’re good at this junk.

She places a hand on his own and looks at him with encouragement.

“Okay,” he starts out, taking a deep breath and looking at a point just beyond her, gathering the words to use. “Last night there might have been a situation where I told another person that something had happened before but it actually had not.”

She blinks at him, waiting for more. He stares back, takes a sip of his coffee, which is now cold, and winces at the taste.

When she realizes he’s not going to give her more she drinks from her own tea then says, “This is bothering you?”

“Yes.”

“So you should tell this person that this thing did not happen. And why did you say that it had?”

He knew she would ferret out the right question to lead to more detail. He mentally kicks himself for getting into this and tries to decide how much more to give her. “I maybe wanted this person to be comfortable enough to do this thing again.”

“Again?”

“Well… Again as far as he was concerned.”

“This is a he?”

“… No… Maybe.” God, he hates discussing personal things. “It was McKay, okay?” He can feel his jaw tighten and reminds himself to breathe and not take this out on Teyla who is only trying to help him.

“Dr. McKay asked about something prior to his ascension and you informed him this thing was something he had done before.” She raises a brow and he nods that she’s got the gist of it now. “Because you wanted him to do this thing again. And now you feel bad that you lied to him?”

He chews a bit on his lip and watches a few Marines come in for a late breakfast. “That’s it.”

“I do not see the problem, unless this thing was dangerous or harmful for Rodney or will cause him to be upset should he regain his memory.”

Well, crap.

John can feel the blood drain from his face. The thought of Rodney remembering on his own hadn’t occurred to him. Teyla can see he’s having a small moment of panic. She leans a bit closer, trying to keep eye contact with him. “This is something that will upset him?”

“Well, it’s upsetting me so I’m pretty sure he’s not going to be overjoyed.”

Teyla sighs. “John, perhaps if you just tell me what this _thing_ was I could help more.”

“I don’t think I want to talk about the _thing_.”

A small furrow appears between her brows but she doesn’t push any more.

John manages to avoid Rodney for most of the day, until one of the Jumpers needs a test flight and his piloting is requested. Rodney’s in the Jumper bay, arguing with Zelenka over some wires.

“Ah, there you are.” Rodney gives him a truly radiant smile and John firmly ignores the stupid little flutter in his stomach. “We made some adjustments to the propulsion systems and I wanted to take this one out for a test.”

“And there were no other pilots available for this?”

There’s a brief flicker in Rodney’s eyes, something that might be doubt. “Well, probably, but you’re my favorite.”

Zelenka ducks his head, coughs and pushes his glasses up. John squints over at him and he suddenly finds the wires of another Jumper most interesting.

“But hey, if you would just teach me to fly again I could probably be my own favorite pilot,” Rodney continues as they enter the Jumper.

Rodney’s hair is a little scruffy today and there’s a certain energy to him that John hasn’t seen in a long time.

The skies are clear and bright over the ocean. John does a few maneuvers and Rodney makes small, happy sounds over his computer, which he’s hooked up to one of the systems panels.

John’s hands are clammy on the controls and he rubs his palms on his pants; tries to concentrate on the flying. This is where he should just tell Rodney that they’re only friends, not fuck-buddies. But it doesn’t come out.

“This is great. It’s all working exactly as it should,” Rodney announces, unhooking his computer and packing up some cables before returning to the co-pilot seat.

“Sweet,” John replies.

“Hmm, yes,” Rodney agrees, glancing at John with a fond smile.

John flushes with warmth and looks away, flustered and irritated that he’s suddenly acting like a stupid girl. This is why you don’t have sex with your friends, because it makes you feel like a jackass. All the more reason to tell Rodney they don’t do this.

“Uh… Rodney.”

“Yeah?” He’s watching the scenery outside the front view of the Jumper. Which is really just sky and ocean, nothing more.

“About last night,”

Rodney visibly tenses.

“We don’t… What I mean is…” John sighs and decides to hell with it if Rodney can’t take it. “We never did that before and I don’t know why you thought we did.”

Rodney blinks, turns his head and stares at John with eyes about as blue as the view outside. “I knew that.”

Luckily the Jumper is pretty adept at flying itself if the pilot suddenly loses focus. John knows his mouth is hanging open as he stares at Rodney. “What?”

Rodney smirks, looking very full of himself. “I knew that and I still gave you an out. But you took me up on it, didn’t you? Encouraged it even.”

“I didn’t –“

“No, no, no.” He holds a hand up to forestall John. “You did. You said ‘yes’, and you reciprocated quite enthusiastically, as I recall.” He’s very smug and John wants to smack him. Considers taking his hands off the controls long enough to do so.

“Fuck you.”

Rodney grins. John clenches his jaw and focuses on the flying again. He takes them low over the ocean then back up high, turning back for the city. “Why did you do that?”

“Oh, please. We’re so compatible, and you can’t tell me you don’t feel it. I felt it as soon as you walked into that room back at SGC. I knew we were connected somehow. Don’t be such a macho jerk about this. Your reputation is safe with me.”

Glancing over he can see Rodney tapping away at his laptop again. As if this is no big deal at all and John’s the only one having issues. His profile is reassuring and familiar. John has an urge to touch him, to affirm that he’s real and solid and not going anyplace far away ever again.

Rodney glances up, feeling John’s heavy stare. He smiles a little and John returns it, because it’s impossible not to.

“You know, I remember something else,” Rodney says. John looks expectant for the answer and Rodney gestures between them. “ _This_ was always between us.”

John doesn’t deny it.

“Also,” Rodney holds a finger up to emphasize his next point, “You should not take your hands off the controls of the Jumper in mid-flight.”

John grabs for the controls, cursing himself for being so easily distracted. The city is coming into view and he’s reluctant to return now. The Jumper reads his mood and climbs a little higher in the sky, trying to encourage more flying time. “How about we go around the world one more time?”

Rodney smirks knowingly. “Sounds good.”

/end


End file.
